Waiting
by PinkBubblegumBliss
Summary: They're waiting for something. But what? They know it won't happen for them, not again, but yet they still try. Drama, romance, set in OotP after the twins leave. Fred/Angelina.
1. It's a bit Messy

Hellooo! I am PinkBubblegumBliss, annd I am a big shipper of this pairing. Some of it may not make much sense, or may seem out of character, but please bear in mind that my reason for posting this fic is for your thoughts and ideas for how to continue it! xx

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_Come stay with George and I over your Easter holidays. I'll come get you from the Express. xx Fred_

Angelina Johnson stared from the petite owl that delivered the letter, to the note it had carried in almost disbelief. She had been so depressed since he and George left—especially because it marked the finality in their breakup the day before their departure.

::5th January, 1996::

_Angelina leaned over Lee, reading over the other teen's shoulder as he wrote his Astronomy essay. She furrowed her brow as she read. "No, no, Io is not covered in lice…goodness, Lee, what are you ever going to do without me?" But he was quick to scratch the mistake out, ducking his head slightly, and Angelina was very distracted by the thought of one Fred Weasley. A soft, "So cute," slipped out, unaware of her thinking aloud, and she was unfazed by Lee's abrupt stop._

_"Angie, could you come 'ere a momen', pet?" George asked as he watched his twin stare at Angelina and Lee before turning on his heel and storming off. Angelina glanced over at him curiously and nodded, stretching up and away from Lee with a yawn as she came closer to George._

_"What's up, George?" Angelina asked, watching the twin's concerned face twist slightly as if thinking. He grabbed her arm and pulled her along with him, asking the teacher a brief question—and to the lady's nod, George lead Angelina off again, and she followed in confusion._

_There was a blur of running and frustration, and soon she returned to the Astronomy tower and talked to Lee about her current plight. However, she left the class more confused than she had been when she returned, and was off to the Great Hall with the wizard. They took their usual seats: Lee, George, Fred, and Angelina across from Fred. Angelina looked at Fred after a long, stiff moment of silence, and murmured, "What's happened, love?"_

_Fred just glared at her for a moment, voice dangerously low as he said, "Don't bloody talk to me." George muttered something that Angelina assumed was to calm him down, but she heard the word 'harlot' slip through as Fred responded. And then something about her and Lee?_

_"Love—er, Fred—would you mind stepping out with me? Here isn't the place to discuss this," she said bracingly, already standing. Fred made some biting remark (she couldn't quite remember it) and George hoisted him up off of the bench, muttering something harshly in his ear. Grudgingly, Fred complied with Angelina and walked with her by the Grand Staircase, avoiding the view of the Great Hall. "Fred, I'm not quite sure what you think you saw, but whatever it was isn't what it really was."_

_"Yeah? And I'm supposed to believe a bloody bint like you? Fat chance, just leave me alone, Angelina." First, ouch at being called a bint. She reached and slapped him across the face—quite hard, at that. Next, being told to leave him alone? Regular occurrence._

_Before she had processed the sharp tingling in her hand, he had her wrist in an iron grip. "Don't touch me," he snapped as he released her wrist and shoved her almost as hard as how she slapped him. Angelina collided with the wall behind her and slid down, wind knocked from her lungs, and he said, "It's over. I'm done. I actually thought you were different, Angelina."_

_For the first time that she had been in Hogwarts, Angelina leaned her aching head against the wall and cried. Tears poured down her face and sobs wracked her body, and soon she picked herself up and got George, who took her gingerly by the waist with one arm (for she told him that her upper back and shoulders hurt too much) and lead her back to the Gryffindor common room, despite his advice to her that she should go to the Hospital Wing._

_As they entered the room, Angelina leaning on George slightly because she was just so terribly exhausted, she was unsurprised (though quite frightened) by seeing Fred visibly stiffen. She watched his eyes flicker across the hand supporting Angelina's waist, to the hand holding one of hers (presumably to assist her up the stairs, as she was shaking quite terribly), to the girl leaning against his twin._

_"I think I want to go to the Hospital Wing after all, George..." she whispered anxiously, tears again threatening to well up and slip over. He nodded and turned them around with a warning look at his twin and helped her down again, walking closely with her down the staircase, and through the corridor._

_After a very tense silence, George took a deep breath and said, "Angie, we've been planning for a while to leave Hogwarts..."_

_"Haven't we all, though? It's seventh year..." But she stopped speaking at the look George gave her._

_"No, not that way. Tomorrow. We're going to get our brooms back and go to our flat, and that'll be the end of it here for us. We'll start the shop, every_—_Angie?" But Angelina had already torn herself away from him and was sprinting back to the staircase leading to Gryffindor tower, running quickly up the stairs (the pain felt like nothing compared to her current emotional state) and shrieked the password at the Fat Lady, tearing up the boy's staircase and throwing the door open._

_"You going to help me pack then, George?"_

_"No, I'm not George. Why are you leaving?"_

_"Go away. I have nothing more to say to you." But Angelina's expression hardened somewhat and she stood her ground, pressing on._

_"I'm not leaving, Fred! You're the one that's leaving! How long've you been planning this? All through the term? Just a few weeks, what? You know how bleeding awful it feels, knowing your boyfriend has been planning on leaving everything, including you?" The sting of unbidden and unshed tears in both of their eyes now. One of frustration, the other exhausted and terribly upset._

_"Yes, okay? I know all of that. Just get out of my bloody sight, Angelina. I'm not talking about this with you, I'm not changing my bloody mind."_

_She stared at him quietly for a long moment and shook her head before speaking softly. "Well, if you have any want of seeing me at all before you go, I'll be in the Hospital Wing. Thanks to you, of course," she added under her breath, turning and leaving the room with Fred staring after her._

::6th January, 1996::

_Katie and Lee visited Angelina the next day and told her that the twins were planning some sort of huge surprise, that they wanted people out in the antechamber before the Great Hall to watch the spectacle. With a sigh, Angelina asked Madame Pomfrey if she could leave, and was given a small pain relieving potion. She drained the little bottle and sat it down, then left with her friends._

_She watched, transfixed with horror and sadness as the confirmation swept through-Fred and George soaring overhead on broken-shackled brooms. As they hovered, George yelled something at Umbridge, but Fred locked eyes with Angelina for a long moment. She mouthed an ill-hearted 'please,' but he broke contact with her and they were off with loud cheers._

::Present day, April 7th 1996::

Angelina was on the train with Lee, Katie, and Alicia, holding the teeny scrap of paper just as she had when she received it only two weeks ago. She never responded to it, only sending the owl back to its owners with a little red and gold ribbon tied elegantly against its leg. Soon it was time for them all to get off, and as she left the train and looked around for her parents, she saw George talking to her mother and father. She walked up to them quickly and smiled at her parents.

"Hello, Mum, Dad," Angelina said cordially, looking from one parent to the other. Despite Angelina's impressive stature, her father towered over her (and George as well) and her father managed a thin, rather forced looking smile.

"Fredrick has just been telling us about his plans to take you on a bit of an adventure, Angelina. A trip with Katherine and Alicia, I believe. Did you say that mister Jordan was going as well, Fredrick?"

"Yes, sir," said George, who appeared to be posing as Fred as he took Angelina's hand gently. She didn't want the clever ruse to fail, so slipped her fingers through his and tried to cover their hands slightly behind herself, just as she normally would when Fred would take her hand in front of her parents. A small flicker of something akin to amusement flickered across her mother's face, but was gone almost as soon as she'd seen it.

"They're all waiting for us, I'm sure," Angelina said, her voice taking a slightly pompous tone—just as was typical when speaking with her parents. And, just like Fred, George put on a show of suppressing a grin (though she was fairly sure his was just as legitimate as Fred's) and she and George bade their good-byes to her parents, turned together, and released hands. As they walked away his hand began to linger at her waist before slipping around, Angelina leaning her head up as if talking to him about something. All until she got out of their view, of course.

However, a conversation was going through as they walked close together.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed faintly, though there was no real anger in her whisper.

"I was standing to wait for you, and your parents approached me thinking I was Fred, and that for some reason I must've been waiting to kiss you goodbye?" he asked, raising a brow at her as they turned a corner. He released her waist and she shifted away from him, glad to be away from the close proximity and the pretending to be with her ex's twin...who was posing as her ex, but as her current? Well, that confused her, but that was fine too then.

"Well, I didn't get to send Pookie to them with any notice about this. Why are you here, I thought the note was from Fred?" she asked airily in response, shaking her head.

"Because he's taking care of the shop today and asked me to get you for him," he said quietly, still leading her off and out of the station. Soon enough they were out on their way to Diagon Alley, and soon they were to number 93.

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"Are you sure about this, George? I don't think this is the best idea..."

"Ease up, Angie, he's waiting to see you," he muttered. Almost immediately George surged forward and pulled a cheerful looking woman with bubblegum colored hair to her feet, as she had been halfway to the ground. Angelina took the opportunity to slip away and walk through the shelves, stopping to look at the Wonder Witch products. They were very nice looking and sparked her interest slightly.

"A Hogwarts customer already? Train only just got back, must've been an hour ago? Just watch them, it's right a right charmer how the pygmy puffs play toge—oh," one Weasley said, stopping as the mocha-skinned girl turned to look at him. There was a stiff, awkward silence that set into the whole store. That was until Ron walked into the store with a yawn.

"Man, I didn't get any sleep patrolling the train," he said with a groan, already walking behind the counter. This gave George the opportunity to slip away from Tonks and stroll up to Fred and Angelina, a cheeky grin on his face that was most certainly not mirrored in his twin's.

"Bit of a set up there, hope neither of you mind. Worked out for my benefit, obviously, because now Fred can stop talking to the picture of you that he hides under his pillow, and you can quit writing me about how much of a git you are," George said, sending a playful wink in Angelina's direction.

Fred's cheeks, nose, and ears flared bright red and Angelina felt her face burn (and was quite glad that her skin was too dark to show a blush) and they both shifted on their feet uncomfortably. George's grin only widened as he took Angelina by her upper arm lightly and began to pull her away. Fred muttered something about not talking to her picture, but she didn't catch all of it and allowed herself to be pulled away by George.

"Let me show you where you'll be staying, pet," he said rather loudly as they turned a corner, and off they were up the stairs. "Sorry for setting the two of you up by the way, just sick of it getting in the way of business. Some mornings he takes hours just getting up, and by the time he's down I'm swamped with customers. Book keeping's a wreck, even," George explained. Angelina shot him a dark look but nodded with a slight sigh, stepping into the flat above the store once George unlocked the door.

"I guess. It's not going to help anything though, George. We're finished. Have been for three months, it's not like our other fights." Angelina rolled her eyes, remembering how sometimes they'd fight, and within an hour of just being silent and cold they would be wrapped up in each other, and other times they would break up for an indeterminate amount of time (usually a month tops) and would, again, be wrapped up in each other. "You realize the only reason my parents said okay is that Fred used to do this nearly every holiday, right? Not give them any notice, just tell them I was going with him, and be done with it?"

"Of course I do. Actually, I was counting on you telling them you'd be going on a bit of a trip, but it worked just as well."

"Trust me, it's better to surprise them when Fred is involved. They only pretend to like him because our fathers both work in the ministry, civility between families is crucial apparently. He did give Fred a chance though, but mostly because he's quite fond of Percy..." unexpectedly she hugged George tightly, drawing in a deep breath to collect herself. "I-I'm sorry, I've spent three months completely pushing every thought of him out of my mind, and it just hasn't worked at all. I guess it's all just flooding back."

George hugged back and swayed with her a bit, rubbing the girl's back in multiple, simultaneous efforts to relax her more. "You can sleep in my room, and I'll take the couch. Doubt Fred's willing to do that at this point. And before you decline, I'd rather you be staying where you can have some alone time if you need it." Angelina pursed her lips at him before nodding carefully. "It's just this way," he said, draping an arm over her shoulders in a friendly way, and lead her to the end of a little hallway. She looked from one door, to the other that was directly across from it, and then back at George with interest now.

He opened one of the doors and lead her in, nodding around the room with a sheepish laugh. "S'a bit messy, sorry about that, pet." Angelina shook her head and smiled at him before walking around somewhat aimlessly, just taking in the sight of his room.

"It's nice," she said, but catching her eye was a door beside his amoir. "Does that..?"

"Yeah. We put it in when we moved in, that way if one of us couldn't sleep we could bugger the hell out of the other one." There was a slightly humorless laugh as he looked over to Angelina.

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_Hmm, it seemed like it was an appropriate stopping point for this chapter! Have no fear, more up immediately ;)_  
_Read and review! Much love, besos y abrazos~_

_-PinkBubblegumBliss xx_


	2. Remember This

The rest of the evening was awkward and uncomfortable, and almost immediately following the dinner the trio ate Angelina dismissed herself to disappear into George's room. Much later, Angelina slipped out-the whole flat was dark, and she lit her wand dimly (as to not wake George up) and wandered around, eventually sitting on the floor near the head of where the ginger-haired man slept.

"Why did you do this? Nothing's going to get better, it's all just such a bloody awful reminder that there's no going back, and nothing will change, and now I actually have to face that. I was doing so well with ignoring everything, and now it's all back and stuck with me. For the whole holiday." She sighed and leaned her head against the edge of the couch, just breathing deeply for a moment. "It's right lovely being reminded of how great he is, yeah, George. Great for you."

"George left hours ago, said he needed to get away from how pathetic we are," said the figure on the couch groggily, voice thready and distant.

"Then what the hell are you doing on the couch?" she asked softly, reaching up to brush some of the short hair away from his face. He leaned into her touch tiredly and let an arm fall from his side to hang over the floor vaguely.

"Tired, fell asleep waiting for George..." he trailed off as Angelina stood, his heavy-feeling eyes drooping closed again. There was a blanket over him a few minutes later, and when he felt his upper body being lifted somewhat his head was propped up slightly and there was a hand in his hair again. She stroked his hair gently and made herself comfortable. He turned to lay on his back, and she quickly set to moving her free hand to rest on his flat, blanket-covered stomach. Fred's hand found hers tiredly and he was quickly asleep again.

"You won't remember this in the morning," she mumbled softly, extinguishing the light of her wand, "But I will. I miss you," Angelina finished. She clutched his hand carefully and continued stroking his hair with her other, and his recently stress-scathed face seemed like it had lost years. He looked so at peace and relaxed, and she wanted to remember it as much as she could.

By morning she had slipped away and adjusted the blankets again on Fred, making sure he was properly warm, and put a throw pillow under his head to replace her legs. Quickly she went back to George's room, then climbed into the cold bed and tried falling asleep again. It was ineffectual, but would be done quite fitfully eventually. She felt herself come back to consciousness when two hands took hers and pulled her into a sitting position, and she complained groggily until she looked and saw what was going on.

"Breakfast, Angie," George said, pulling her fully out of bed. Angelina yawned and let her hands slip from his, running one of her now free hands through her fluffy hair and following him out of his (temporarily her) room. They went into the kitchen and she joined an equally exhausted-looking Fred at the table. "How did you two sleep?" he asked now, bringing steaming plates of food and setting them in front of the pair. He got a plate of his own and moved to sit with them, taking the large pitcher and pouring orange juice into his cup. Angelina mimicked the action and took a thoughtful sip from her glass.

"Odd dream last night, actually. Slept through it though. But then I woke up, and it was kind of like it, but not, and I had trouble getting back to sleep," Fred mumbled, words running together slightly. He still didn't seem to be fully cognizant—he did always take longer to wake up and focus than Angelina. Awkwardly she looked down at her plate and began eating the food George had set out for them, finding herself having to bite her tongue to refrain from saying anything.

"That's odd, then. Least you got sleep, I was out all night with...well that's not important, I was out all night though. Got back 'round six, I think." Now he looked at Angelina, and again her gaze dropped significantly. He had seen them, she knew. And Fred had no idea any of his 'odd dream' was real.

"In the morning? Goodness, George, you're absolutely mad. Haven't you slept at all since yesterday?" Angelina finally asked, lifting her glass to her lips again after her question.

Fred now looked between his twin and Angelina. He had thought it before he and George had left, he thought it to an even stronger extent when she was brought into the store, and seeing him lead her out of his room seemed almost like confirmation-and now she was practically falling all over to make sure he wasn't making himself sick with lack of sleep. He wouldn't admit it (because he was stubborn and he was the one who broke up with her, after all), but he found himself to have a twisting stomach and tight throat. Frederick Septimus Weasley could be a very jealous person at times.

"No, but I'll get some rest after shop closes up today." That sparked Fred's attention, Angelina could tell as they continued through their conversation.

"Who's down there right now, Gred?" he asked, scooping a bite of egg from his plate and chewing it thoughtfully.

"Charlie's been visiting Mum and Dad, he and Ron are down there right now I think. They flooed over a bit after I got there and offered to take over, so I let them, and we'll be down there soon anyway. Nothing to worry about, Forge." He took a moment to pause and turned to look at Angelina. "Remember how I said book keeping was a mess? I know you're wicked good at organizing and such things. Just while you're here, if it isn't too much trouble—"

"More than happy to. Nothing worse in a business than disorganized filing and records."

"Brilliant. Fred, we have a set of uniform robes for a woman, right?" he now addressed Fred with the question. To Fred's nod, George clapped his hands together and beamed from his twin to their guest, and soon they were all about their day.

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_Here, as promised, it the next chapter! After this is another two coming up._  
_Read and review! Much love, besos y abrazos~_  
_-PinkBubblegumBliss xx_


	3. Naked

_Ahh yes, the reason this particular story is rated T! ;) xx_

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Later that evening however, Fred and George had both left, telling Angelina they'd be back before too late. She sighed and wandered around for a while, then laid on the floor in the sitting room and made colorful bubbles from her wand, then drifted into George's room to pick up the clothes that were everywhere. She didn't even notice when someone came home until the door slammed shut, and Angelina grabbed her wand, gripping it tightly as she slowly crept from George's room. Oh, it was just one of the twins, home early.

"Fred or George?" she asked, lowering her wand and placing it on one of the rickety little tables. There was a bright laugh and the figure stumbled towards her, tripping slightly on his wobbling feet, and Angelina was quick to rush and catch him. Fred, then, she decided as he attempted feebly to push her away, but only laughed harder and slumped against her.

"Oh come off it then, this—" he cut off with a hiccup, "—shite that has nothing to do with anything, Ange. George put you up to coming here, but what good does it do? Y'bloody hate me, no reason to linger on with the past, no reason to make everything so bleedin' awkward," his words slurred together slightly and he tried standing on his own but fell into her again. She put her arms around him awkwardly, not entirely sure what else to do in the situation, until she pulled him into the bathroom and shook her head.

"This is just not going to do, Mister," Angelina said in a mock-serious tone and relieved Fred of his tie. She began unbuttoning his shirt and slid it off of his shoulders and down his arms. "Getting you in a bath and getting that awful stench off of you," she said, still in the same lecturing tone. Fred just watched her, leaning on the counter to keep himself up, not bothering to put up a fight as she bent low to remove his shoes and socks, and just watched in an amused haze as she quickly undid the belt buckle supporting his trousers. She carefully slipped them (along with his boxers) down until they pooled at his feet, and he stepped out of them, now stark naked in front of her. Unfazed, Angelina moved to draw the bath water and watched it fill until it had the pleasant perfumes and bubbles at a desired heat and height, and flicked the water off again.

Angelina helped him get in and knelt in front of the tub, pulling a washcloth from a small pile of them and putting a sweet-smelling liquid on it, then wet the cloth and moved it to rub against his shoulders and his neck. Fred sat there and let her do what she wanted to, but it didn't stop him from continuing to question her about George.

"D'you like him, Angelina? Like the way he calls you Angie, pulls you up when he wakes you, gives you a job, and let's not forget that he gave you his room. You like that, don't you," he slurred out, rolling his shoulders as the washcloth slid down, rubbing circles on his upper back and briefly removing to dip in the water again, then returned to the gentle, cleansing motions.

"No, you silly git," she mumbled with a quiet laugh, "I don't like him that way. He owled me a note that he signed with your name. Don't know why I was so bloody stupid, but I thought it was actually from you. But no, I don't," she added again, more to make sure he understood than anything else.

"Then what the bloody hell are you two all grins about when you leave his room in the morning, and go to bed at night? You sure you're not snoggin'im?" Fred asked, feeling hot water cascade down his shoulders and back from a small pitcher to rinse him off. Angelina dutifully pushed him to lean against the back of the tub, and once she re-wet and re-soaped the cloth was rubbing his collar bone and chest clean.

"I promise on my life, that I, Angelina Marie Johnson, am not snogging George Gideon Weasley," she said, laughing softly as she poured the warm water on his chest now, then refilled the pitcher and paused to lean forward and kiss his hair—she then poured the water on his head carefully (so to avoid his eyes) and got some of the shampoo, mixed it with conditioner, and rubbed her palms together to spread it evenly on her fingers and hands in general. "I'm not that kind of person, you know that," she continued absently, lacing her fingers through his hair and running her fingertips against the man's scalp with gentle drags of her nails occasionally.

"Well there it is! You know his middle name, what's—"

"Septimus."

"... Oh. What about—"

"Bilius. Ginny's is Molly. Percy's is Ignatius. Bill's is Arthur. Charlie's is Andrew. Don't test me," she teased softly. He gave her the oddest look, which only made her grin from pure amusement at the expression, coupled with his sudsy hair. It also couldn't be helped that he was in a bathtub, completely drunk as all of this was happening. "You told me once, when we talked about our family's. We were littler, even though I could've been weird and asked my father about it."

Now seemed like an appropriate time, after she rinsed his hair and got the soaked strands away from his forehead, to just look at him. He had the most beautiful hazel eyes, and he really didn't look any different than when the twins had left—just slightly rougher around the edges. She imagined it was stress from being out in the world again. Finally, she leaned over and mumbled quietly in the man's ear, "You didn't have a weird dream. I was really there."

When she pulled away, it looked like Fred was finally piecing things together with his confused, inebriated mind, but Angelina was already standing. She pointed her wand at him simply and said, "Sobrius." Instantly Fred looked more alert, and he looked from himself (now very clean and no longer smelling of alcohol and cloves) to her, and seemed almost at a loss for words.

Well, until he grabbed her and pulled her into the tub as well. Angelina let out a squeal and fought to keep her head above the bubble-covered water, and soon she managed that feat, but it was not lost on her to reach and smack his arm. But before she was completely sure what was going on, his face was dangerously close to her own, and his eyes were half-closed, and—

"Bloody hell, you two, one day? I'm better at this than I thought, Merlin," he trailed off and grinned at the two; Fred was now blushing furiously all over, and Angelina was prying herself away from Fred and reaching for a towel. As soon as she stood up (well, as soon as she finished regaining her balance), she released the water, helped Fred up, and without looking down assisted him in wrapping it around his waist.

"He's completely sloshed, George. I was just helping him get cleaned up, and he pulled me in," was her clipped, formulaic response. Fred just grinned dazedly and leaned to hang on the girl who was soaked through her clothes.

"S'right, she just done seen me naked," he said, a howl of laughter hidden in the crook of her shoulder. George arched a brow from one to the other and shook his head before walking out. "You're very pretty, did you know that, Gred?" he called after his brother with another hysterical laugh.

"Come on, more attractive twin, let's get you to bed," she said loudly, sarcasm dripping through her voice. The two made an awkward show of helping him get out (although he really didn't need it) and putting an arm around his waist, placing one of his over her shoulders and helping the 'stumbling' man back to his room. They were both nearly in tears laughing after Fred shut the door behind them, shaking his head.

"Most clever thing right there, Angie," he said, bringing both of his hands to slip around her waist. They both seemed so happy and excited again, like everything had been renewed, and his face was so close to hers again but she turned her head to the side, and he caught her cheek awkwardly.

"Can't 'take advantage of you', Fred. But when you're feeling a bit more...'right', then maybe there's room for having a bit of a lie-in." Angelina smiled faintly at him and leaned up to kiss her ex's forehead, then removed her arms from around him and unwound herself from his arms as well. Soon she was out of the door and going around to George's room, pulling a clean dressing gown from her trunk and slipping it over her head. It really was quite late, and she was feeling horribly exhausted after the past hour or so had settled in, and she climbed under the covers and attempted to sleep.

Later, she heard the opening of a door, and clumsy adjusting of weight on George's bed, and strong arms (built up quite nicely from Quidditch) were around her, pulling her close to him. Suddenly she didn't have nearly as much trouble with resting. But she woke to the same feeling of George's hands taking hers and pulling her to sit up, just like the previous day, and there was no Fred next to her. She clutched his hands sleepily and stood, before releasing them and stretching while she left the room.

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_Annd the third chapter of the four uploaded tonight!_  
_As said in the others, read and review! Much love, besos y abrazos~_  
_-PinkBubblegumBliss xx_


	4. A Family Business in the Works

"Morning," she said casually, sitting at the table across from Fred once again. It was back to awkward, shoddy glances between each other, but that was alright enough. He was feigning a hangover, and she was acting as if nothing had happened after she took him back to his room the night before.

He grunted in response and muttered something about a pain potion and a nap after breakfast as George placed food in front of them, much like the day previously. They ate in silence, and though she knew Fred must've been ravenously hungry, she still failed to hide her amusement in the fact that he was practically burying his face in the plate. Magically-fixed drunk nights still left some of the hungover-esque behaviors, it seemed, and she ate her fill and left the room to get ready for the shop to open.

She soon emerged with her hair loosely curled and the brilliantly magenta robes, and only slight hints of makeup on her face. Angelina glanced at herself in the mirror that was in their sitting room, which shouted with Molly Weasley's voice, "You're late!" at which she snapped from her reverie. With a faint laugh Angelina traipsed down the stairs and appeared behind the counter. Customers were already steadily filtering in through the shop, a lot of who she could place from school.

"Brilliant choices, five galleons and seven sickles if you do please," Angelina said, looking over all of the merchandise someone she recognized to be one of Ginny's friends was intending to purchase and ringing it into the magical register. It popped open as the teen handed his money over, and with a wave of her wand a shower of colorful sparks erupted from the tip. She had done this every-so-often, sometimes shooting the sparks, and other times a long train of bubbles that followed after leaving customers. It especially amused younger children that were with their parents buying the candy in a jar, or cute Aviamobiles (the Ford Anglia incident would briefly flicker in her mind), or first years that weren't yet allowed to do magic outside of school and would buy trick wands.

They all seemed perpetually amused, however, by the fact that occasionally a Weasley twin (always Fred, but sometimes they confused him for George quite easily) would appear behind Angelina, make a shh-ing gesture, and slide their arms around her waist. She would be trapped like this, selling products and sending little sparkles or bubbles, for five or six minutes and then disappear without a word again. If anything, more people would come in during these little shows, and find themselves compelled to buy from the store ("Look there, he has his girlfriend working with him! A true family business in the works," proclaimed a witch. She herself had a boy on her arm, and she recognized the male to be Oliver Wood, apparently on a break from Quidditch travels).

Every time one of these displays appeared though, Angelina and Fred would sway about comically-usually when the people were searching for the proper money. Once they even fell, laughing the whole way, and Fred would managed to get to his knees, and from there he would pull her up. Any time one of the times for this 'demonstration' appeared, his hands would not leave from her waist, and Fred would just grin cheekily at everyone.

"Can't keep my hands off her, quite literally," he would say loudly, demonstrating this by attempting to remove his hands. Her robes would tug with him and pull his hands back, firmly against her. "Sticks to anything for a short period of time, absolutely impossible to remove until the charm wears off. Found in the 'practical uses' area of the store, by the punching telescopes and headless hats. Brand new and a Weasley original," would be his finish to the advertisement, and everyone would stop and wait to watch his hands gradually free of Angelina's work robes. After learning in his haze the previous night that no, she did not like George, and yes, she did feel it pertinent to make their lives that were temporarily stuck together again quite the more bearable than they had been as of yet, Fred had been quite the warm person once more.

"Brilliant day," George commented, leaning back in his chair at the Leaky Cauldron and placing his hands behind his head. Angelina helped herself to another butterbeer and nodded in agreement, and Fred cheered about it with a laugh.

"Brilliant way to get customers, you hear some of the birds in there? Loved it, wanted all their blokes to buy it because we looked like we were having so much fun."

"Well, we were," Angelina said. "Most entertaining day, enjoyed it quite a bit. Are we all just going off on our own again later? If so, I am not into the idea of taking care of a persuasively drunken Weasley twin a second night in a row," she said mock-seriously, throwing a pointed glance in Fred's direction. His ears flared red and he grumbled mutinously into his mug.

"Feels like we've been-"

"-Unfair to you, Ange-"

"-Leaving you off-"

"-On your lonesome-"

"-Every night since you've arrived. And you've been here, what, Forge?"

"Two nights, Gred? Third night's now," replied Fred.

"Right. Which means on a coin toss-"

"Heads or tales, Ange?"

"We'll decide who gets the fortune of staying home with her while the other goes out. What'll it be, pet?" George finished.

"Er... sorry, got so caught up that it just sounded like one person talking...right, well," she stammered out thoughtfully, "... Tails?"

* * *

Hmm I wonder what tails will be ;)  
Guess we'll have to wait and find out! Though, the nine Czech coins I flipped were very persistent...and my friend picked out who was what for me. Read and review, and more to come soon!  
Much love, besos y abrazos~  
-PinkBubblegumBliss xx


	5. Trust Myself

And here we come upon the longest chapter so far! I will clarify anything I think that needs noting at the end of the chapter. xx

* * *

Curled up on the couch to one side was Angelina, and sitting somewhat tensely on the other side was Fred. They sat in awkward, very uncomfortable silence, but neither wanted to leave the other's presence. They would steal glances when the other wasn't looking, and if they caught the other's eye, they would look away quickly. Earlier had been a different day, it felt like, because this certainly could not be the same as the previous hours. She ran a hand through her hair and rested her head on the arm of the couch, and despite the awkward aura she enjoyed being alone with him.

And soon enough she found herself peeking at him from the corner of her eye. His handsome, angular features were softened in the candlelights that kept the room dimly lit against the darkening windows. With a muted sigh Angelina sat up and looked at him fully, surprised to see he was doing the same. However, he was staring at her nose, and she at his forehead, and at an incredibly, torturously slow pace, their eyes slid to meet. The urge to look down and go was almost unbearable, but she looked in his eyes and tried to find anything he could've been feeling.

But for once, she found him to be completely unreadable. She was now tempted to reach for him, anything that meant contact, but Fred stood with a sigh. Angelina looked up at him now and he shook his head at her.

"I can't trust myself around you," he said, brows knitted together as he tried to figure out his next words, "I...no, just..." Fred trailed off and left the room quickly, and there was a faint _'click' _as his bedroom door locked. Pause. Listen. Angelina sighed and left the sitting room for a bath, thinking it would be easier to just mull things over in the hot water. They had been doing so much better getting along with one another, and then George left to talk to someone about something (he had been vague with the details), and suddenly it was all terribly, dreadfully unhappy again.

Couldn't trust himself around her? What did that mean? Soon Angelina released the water and wrapped herself in a towel, peeking out of the door to make sure no one was out, and slipped through into George's room. She dressed once more and stared for a long moment at the door that separated Fred's room from George's, and though she knew it was not in her best interest to do so, Angelina tried the door. It opened silently and she slid into the room. Fred was lying on his bed, back to her, and there was a thin blanket covering him. He looked stiff and tense, but also as if he hadn't moved from this position since he went into his room. Next to his bed, on his nightstand, was the picture of her (with Fred from just one year ago sneaking up and grabbing her in a tight hug around the waist) that she remembered George mentioning the day she had arrived.

There was some vague noise she couldn't quite grasp on, until she realized it was coming from Fred. He was humming the song they danced to at the Yule Ball, the last slow song before they called it quits; feet hurting and only two other couples remaining, they agreed it was time to call it a night. She smiled softly and walked closer to his bed, reaching across it to run the backs of her fingers down and against his upper arm, wondering what would happen. The humming stopped abruptly, but he stayed stiffly in the one position.

Taking it as a positive sign that he hadn't told her to leave yet, Angelina climbed onto the bed next to him and continued running her fingers up and down his arm gently. With gradual ease she lay next to him, hand travelling from its ministrations to rub his back and shoulders in an effort to relax him. Still, Fred remained stiffly in place, and Angelina decided she needed to pull out the big wands. She wrapped her arm around his waist and pressed herself close to him, chest against his upper back and shoulder blades, abdomen against the small of his back, and resting her chin on his shoulder so their heads were touching.

But instead of looking at him, she watched the picture, smiling at the startled look she got when Fred's arms would suddenly be around her. "We were so good, Fred...so happy together." The words were barely a whisper, and still Angelina was just watching the picture. Fred made a small grunting sound, and she spanned her fingers out against his toned stomach and continued to watch the picture. The happier versions of them were making faces at each other and stealing quick pecks on the lips before finally snapping back to Earth and seeing the camera, where Alicia was laughing and taking the pictures. "Do you remember when that happened? We were so mad, we chased after her to get the camera from her..."

"And then you said you'd kick her off the team when you actually had the power to, and she gave you the camera..."

"And then I developed the photos and gave you that one," she finished softly. Fred slowly seemed to be relaxing. "And then it was Christmas Eve before we knew it, and we were dancing all night..." Angelina pulled away from him and immediately missed the warmth and contact with him. She stood and walked to the other side of the bed and knelt down in front of him. Carefully she reached for his hands and unfolded them from the stubborn cross of his arms, and her fingers slipped in between his, and there she pressed light kisses to his fingertips. Gradually he curled his fingers to press into the flesh covering the backs of her hands.

Experimentally Angelina leaned forward as if to kiss him and noted that the withdrawn man's breath caught in his throat. But instead she stood and pulled him into a sitting position, then pressed her lips against his forehead and tugged his hands persistently. Fred stood slowly, still not wanting to relent fully, but she knew his resolve would waver and diminish soon. Angelina moved one of his hands firmly to her waist, keeping his other in her hand and brought her now free arm to wrap around his neck.

Slowly he shifted closer to her and reaffirmed his grip on her, and they began dancing without music. Quietly she said, "You look dashing," with a faint smile. Fred let his eyes sweep over her like he had the year previously, and it felt like he was looking at her for the first time.

"And you look...bloody amazing," he replied, leaning his forehead down to press against hers. Angelina felt her cheeks burn but she pressed hers back to his, evening the amount of force applied, and continued waltzing with him in the steady, three-beat pattern. They continued like this for almost two hours, until both of her arms were at his neck, and his arms wrapped fully around her petite waist, but still their faces remained close to each other.

There were only occasional words, generally meaningless, occasionally just talking about the day at work, but most of the time they spent swaying that way was comfortingly silent. Words weren't necessary for the unspoken feelings that passed through them, and finally Angelina felt like they understood each other. It was a sad thing realizing that they wouldn't be together that way anymore, despite the overwhelming likelihood of that being an undeniable truth to their relationship. But tonight they could let it pass by them, and soon they had drifted onto his bed, laying atop the blankets.

Angelina was pressed tightly against his side, head resting on his chest, with one arm under his back and the other resting on his shoulder. Both of his arms were easily holding her close to himself, though one was higher so he could stroke her hair. His arms felt so secure around her and she felt safe like this. The night before it was just...what was it? She didn't even know what it was. But Angelina felt like nothing could happen to her at that moment, because Fred was there, and the whole world must only have consisted of the two of them right at that moment, because that was all it felt like.

* * *

"Fancy waiting up with me for George?" he finally asked, leaning his head down to press his lips against her temple. "We can floo to the Burrow or something even, I'm sure Ginny'd love to see us, maybe play a late night round of Quidditch to get rid of some time."

"That sounds like a fine idea, sure," she said softly, smiling at the light kiss to her forehead, and very, very reluctantly pulling away from him. But he looked her over once and chuckled. "What?" she asked, wrinkling her nose at him slightly.

"S'just...you're not exactly dressed for going out anywhere," he said and touched a hand to her waist, pulling it away with a light tug of the dressing gown she wore. Angelina laughed and offered a playful wink before turning from the room and walking to his closet, grabbing one of his comfortable looking shirts, one of his _'F'_ sweaters, and one of his spare cloaks, then raised a brow at him before walking into George's room, very aware of Fred staring after her as she door closed and locked with a click.

A few minutes later she was out, jeans and shoes in place, Fred's shirt and cloak around her as well. He looked her over again and took her hand, a wide grin on his face. "Now that's what I call a sight for sore eyes." Angelina laughed and laced their fingers together. "Maybe we should disapparate? Don't want my cloak getting dirty," he teased. She nodded as if it were the most important executive decision she had ever needed to make and clutched his hand tighter. "Ready?"

"Yeah, I'm ready." She smiled back at him and watched as he closed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath before the familiar suffocating feeling overtook, clutching his hand tighter and knowing it would be over as soon as it had begun. A moment later they were in a dark area of Ottery St. Catchpole, and his arm was tightly around her shoulders while they walked.

"Dodgy place at night, but it's the closest we're allowed before the security spells Dad set up comes in," he murmured, and she slipped an arm around his waist and walked quickly with him. They were at almost a trot; evidently it really could be a bad area. She saw muggles sleeping beneath newspapers that looked as if they may not have moving pictures, and within about five minutes they were waltzing into the house. Quickly there was a short, round, and usually cheerful witch bustling towards the door they entered from, looking frazzled, wand drawn, and as though she were being attacked.

".. Hello Mrs. Weasley," Angelina said as she felt Fred's arm tighten around her.

"Mum, it's okay."

"What did you do when you were five that triggered a long-time fear for your brother?"

Fred's ears reddened and he grinned sheepishly at her. "Turned his bear into a spider when he was holding it." Angelina gaped at him slightly and rolled her eyes after a beat. Fred looked at her and poked his tongue out before he moved his other arm, linking his hands together in a more complete hold around Angelina. "Don't practice what Kingsley mentioned when I bring a guest over, mum, you'll scare her off again." But Fred laughed and Angelina leaned into his hold with a good-natured smile at the Weasley mother.

"Angelina, dear! Fred, why didn't you mention sooner?" Mrs. Weasley paused to look the younger witch over how the cloak on her was definitely too big, and beneath it was the gold stitching of the lower half of a letter _'F'. _With a broad smile she set her wand back into her apron and pulled both of them into a tight hug. "Knew it would happen, Fred, didn't I tell you?"

"Mum, here is not the place for this," he muttered, ears again reddening until she was sure they could catch fire, simply from how bright they were becoming. She figured it was something to do with her and pretended like she hadn't heard a thing. Soon Angelina figured out how to get away from the tight grip of the stout, fair-haired woman, and walked into the sitting room while removing Fred's cloak. There sat Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. A few minutes later Fred dropped into the chair Angelina was sitting in front of, and she settled her back against his legs, then leaned her head back on his knees to look at him.

He smiled down at her and they all engaged in a conversation about the trio's upcoming O.W.L.s, Angelina warning them frequently against following Fred and George's examples. They would laugh each time (well, Ron and Harry would, but Hermione seemed to be hanging onto every word Angelina had to say on the matter). Within the hour she was comfortably sitting in Fred's lap, back against his chest, and enjoying the company of the Weasleys (plus Harry and Hermione) until she let out a long yawn.

"Looks like I should be bringing her home," Fred said with a faint chuckle as he seemed to take great pleasure in standing with her, leading the sleepy woman from the room as they said their goodbyes to the small crowd of people in the sitting room. He slid the cloak onto her shoulders and thought for a moment. "Mum, how's the floo powder supply looking? I'd rather get straight there and soot-covered than have to take her out into Ottery St. Catchpole at this hour."

"I'm sorry, dear, we ran out this morning when your father—well, we're out of floo powder." Fred sighed and fastened his cloak, then made sure Angelina was ready and awake enough to go.

"Night, mum, nice seeing everyone," he said, and Angelina mumbled something in agreement and waved to them in a goodbye. He lead her out into the darker, much colder night, and was very quick about pulling her close to him. "Let's get you back, we'll light the fire and wait for George at the flat," he mumbled, lips brushing against her ear and sending sleepy shivers that had nothing to do with the temperature outside, and finally she was clutched to him and pulled into the suffocating darkness with a light _'pop'_ and once more they were in the dimly lit flat.

* * *

As promised, Fred flicked his wand at the fireplace and merry flames crackled, and with another wand-wave there was a saucepan heating milk for cocoa in the kitchen, and he removed his cloak and hung it. Angelina passed the one she had been wearing and disappeared into George's room briefly. When she came back, Fred was surprised to see bare legs up until the too-long shirt and sweater appeared, covering any risque areas of her body. He cleared his throat and came in with the two mugs, then sat on the couch with a raised brow in her direction. She walked over and sat a bit away from him, before bringing those legs that looked so lovely in the warm light of the fire and resting them on the empty space of the sofa and leaning against him with her upper body. He offered a mug to her, which she accepted and sipped carefully, then placed his arm around her shoulders.

They both sipped the mugs of cocoa for a long time, talking and laughing sometimes, quiet and relaxed others, and Fred felt like he was learning even more reasons to miss her when she left. The more he felt this way, the tighter and closer he would hold her, the more he felt like he could be falling deeper in love with her than he was already denying to himself. But she told him about everything that had been happening at Hogwarts since he and George left.

"Lee and I've gotten loads of detentions for defending the two of you when Umbridge decides it's her place to insult you, actually," she said softly. Fred glanced at her as she fidgeted with the long-empty cup before setting it down and pulling a bit of the sweater's sleeve back, showing him razor-thin cuts that were still healing. It was more than obvious why she didn't want to show Fred: the marks spelled, in Angelina's curly writing, _I will not share my opinions of blood-traitors in the classroom._ "It's what she made us write, I don't...you know I wouldn't..." But she trailed off and fell silent as he pressed his lips to the back of her hand, feeling the raised letters made from the cuts, and his mug was next to hers instead of in his hand. One arm around her, the other holding the slightly mutilated hand.

A little while later he was laying on the couch, Angelina curled on top of him and listening to the rise and fall of his chest, and soon she was sound asleep. One of Fred's arms was lazily draped around her waist, and the other rubbed her back; occasionally he would bring it up to stroke her hair, but it continued to make him smile whenever his calloused fingers would run against the fabric of his sweater clinging to her.

He hummed quietly to her, occasionally muttering calmly about the problems he had been having. "And then there's Percy, he's always got Mum in such a twist," he mused softly. There was a breathless, utterly humorless chuckle, and he shook his head. "I don't know what to think, he's such a prat and ignores Dad at work all of the time, apparently..." he continued to discuss this with the sleeping woman, though she had no answers or insight for him, it was a comfort that he could hold her and let all of his thoughts rush out. "And of course, I'm completely in love with you, and this'll all be over in a few days... back to working and visiting the Burrow, planning more ideas with George... no one to argue with, no one to do...well, this, with... No one to play jokes on," he chuckled again and drew circles on her back with light fingers.

The door opened a bit later, when Fred was quietly reciting Babbity Rabbity and her Cackling Stump, and in stepped George. Fred trailed off and glanced up to see his identical counterpart, traces of a grin on his face as he made no effort to move from under the sleeping woman. "Shh."

"What are you even doing, Forge? I tell you to watch her and suddenly it's like nothing's ever happened between you two."

"Ohh believe you me, Gred my lovely, that isn't how this evening started at all." And it was true. The evening had started off wretchedly, but he was surprised with his own self-control in all of the matters. Temptation to yell at her for everything he had felt the past three months, grab her and kiss her and so many other things, ignore her and shut her away...all of the things extremes that could've happened, he had done an excellent job of remaining away from. "Nothing's happened at all though, she's had a really long day. We visited Mum though, which is probably part of it."

"How'd that go?"

"Oh, _swimmingly_, of course. How do you think?" he asked sarcastically, though trying to keep his voice down as Angelina stirred slightly—he must've been talking too loudly and bothering her hearing, especially with how she was sleeping to the vibrations of his chest.

"If it makes you feel better about that, her parents don't even know you two ever broke up," George replied quietly, taking the empty mugs away from the table in front of the couch and placing them in the sink. "Actually, I had to play you when I picked her up. Interesting experience by the way, her parents really that proper with you?"

"Ginevra, Percival, Frederick...get this, they call Katie _Katherine_. Not even McGonnagall does that." Fred mumbled in response, now petting the woman's hair gently. "Ange, wake up...let's get you to a real bed," he said quietly, addressing the sleeping person on top of him.

George gave him a vague look as Angelina woke up, though she looked incredibly sleepy and seemed to be quickly dozing again. Fred helped her sit up, and with a yawn she stood. He stood as well, and she reached with slack fingers to clutch at his arm, to which he rolled his eyes slightly and picked her up bridal-style. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her forehead against his neck, already drifting again, and only barely hearing Fred tell George, "Have a nice night in your room this time, Georgie boy."

Before she was fully asleep, she was aware of being laid on top of blankets, and then rearranged to be beneath several of them. A few minutes later there was a shifting of weight on the bed, and Angelina moved close to the ginger-haired man that was now lying beside her. She wrapped an arm around him, and he did the same with both of his own arms, and she fell asleep again with her head on his chest. A few minutes later, Fred joined her in sleeping.

* * *

Clarifying notes!:  
*They spent a lot of time in _Fred's r_oom, not George's.  
*By saying 'have a nice night in your room', Fred meant that he was bringing Angelina to sleep with him in his.  
*Kingsley told the Weasleys (for the sake of the story) to start practicing when people came home from work, school, for visits, etc. because Voldy's back and the Order _did_ reform.  
*Angelina's parents think Fred and Angelina are still together.  
*Fred's parents know they broke up, but Molly thinks they're together again.  
*If I missed anything, please tell me!

_Much love, besos y abrazos~_  
_-PinkBubblegumBliss xx_


	6. Otherwise, Angel

Heyyy! I wanted to thank Courtney Huerth for favoriting the story, and J. Alexandra for adding it to alerts! I appreciate it very much; I was starting to think no one liked my story. D':  
Anyway, enjoy the next chapter! It's George this time though, just so you know. xx

* * *

George sighed and walked into his room, just looking at the state of it for a moment. It was perfectly clean, aside from Angelina's clothes thrown everywhere (funny how she could clean so much of someone else's things, but her own would be a mess). It was nice knowing there was a feminine touch, even if it was subtle. Her perfume lingered in the air of the room, and even after he changed into his pyjamas, a thought burdened him.

He, like Fred, used to have quite honest feelings for the British woman. But, being the vaguely quieter twin, he didn't shine quite as brightly as his counterpart. Fred had gotten to Angelina first, even if George had been there, and was honestly caught off-guard by his twin's actions. He didn't realize at the time that Fred would be asking her out, until he mimed dancing, and by then he knew it was too late upon seeing Angelina's pleased, slightly dreamy grin, and how she let her gaze linger on the twin that was now talking to their brother.

Fred knew it, too—they never told each other, but in silent understanding leading up to Fred asking for her, they knew their feelings toward Angelina Johnson were mutual. George would smile and support the two, but more than enough times he had come perilously close to his hidden feelings revealing themselves to her in her many spouts with Fred.

::5th January, 1996::

_She was crying. Why was she crying? Fred and Angelina had gone out to discuss what happened earlier. Certainly everything that happened was concerning, but why was she coming back crying? George had never seen Angelina cry, never in the seven years they'd known each other had he ever seen her cry. She was so strong and like she held the entire world in an iron grip. But here she was, sitting down dejectedly beside him, and with one look at him her face was hidden in her arms._

_He felt awful. It was Fred, it had to have been Fred, but what could he have possibly done to make her cry?_

"_... He shoved me into a wall," was the only thing he processed, at first. "He put his hands on me and shoved me into the wall. It's not even that he dumped me, he actually hurt me." George felt his blood boil but said nothing, his face a grim line as he helped the young woman up gingerly and lead her from the room. His arm was at her waist protectively, and later he clutched her hand to help her up the stairs. Every touch was exceedingly gentle._

"_...I think I want to go to the Hospital Wing after all, George," was the feeble whisper near his ear. With a soft nod, he turned to help her back down and out of the portrait hole, shooting one menacing look at his twin._

_But he felt guilty now. She didn't know anything of his and Fred's plan to leave. Angelina had spent the whole year sneaking off to fly with Fred and later to lay with her head in his lap on the couches, or squished close to him on the comfortable armchairs, or fight with him and not know that they may not even get back together after any one of those fights. He knew she was adjusted and comfortable with the pattern set around her and her relationship with his twin brother._

"_Angie, we've been planning for a while to leave Hogwarts..." he began uncomfortably, his arm that was at her waist tightening. She looked at him with a look that showed pure confusion and lack of awareness._

"_Haven't we all, though? It's seventh year..." she responded slowly. But he gave her a very strained, unhappy look. Because really—it tugged at his heart to know he had to tell her this. It really did. Especially with what she had just been through...no one deserved this, in his opinion._

"_No, not that way. Tomorrow. We're going to get our brooms back and go to our flat, and that'll be the end of it here for us. We'll start the shop, every—Angie?" but it was too late; Angelina tore herself away from him, his arms now feeling cold and empty, and he watched her sprint down the hall as if she wasn't injured in the slightest. Off to find Fred and change his mind. Would she have done that for either of them if she hadn't been dating Fred previously, he wondered?_

_But George felt nervous now. He knew Fred wouldn't change his mind, and he also knew Fred would be nasty to her for it. Off to the Room of Requirement for alone time, it seemed._

::Present day: 10th April, 1996::

George sighed at the memory and placed his wand to his temple, withdrawing the long strand and placing it in the small pensieve he kept. The memory swirled and Angelina's tearful face hung in the surface briefly before it returned to simply being a swirling mass, neither liquid nor gas. But still, thoughts and memories of their trio when they were younger plagued him.

* * *

::28th December, 1992::

"_All of this Chamber of Secrets talk is maddening," George said idly as the four (Lee, Angelina, Fred, and George) sat together in the common room. Fred and George sat together on the roomy couch, Angelina in one of the squashy armchairs, and Lee on the one across from her. But Angelina seemed nervous, as though she was troubled by something and was holding back._

"_Actually, Gred, I haven't seen Ginny all day...Ange, you're the only one that can go into the girls' dormitories," Fred began, looking at their friend. Angelina seemed to tense slightly but looked back at Fred, and even if his twin couldn't tell, he saw the guilt creeping into her expression. "Do you think you could check the first years' room and see if she's been holed up in there?"_

"_I...of course I can, Fred," she had said. George watched as she stood, walked almost past the couch, but stopped in front of the arm of it. She appeared to be frozen to the spot, words just barely teeming at the surface, begging to be released. And finally, she looked at Fred and George, and he could see the nervousness in her whole being as she opened her mouth to speak. ".. It's going to be okay, you know," Angelina had said, in what he assumed was supposed to be an easy comfort._

_But his blood ran cold and a pit formed in his stomach at her words. He knew what it implied, and as the young teen sat on the arm of the couch and reached to fix Fred's short hair, he knew even more that she was going to be the bearer of bad news._

"_I overheard Harry talking to Ron earlier..."_

"_What were they saying, Ange?" Fred asked, leaning back on the couch to look at her. Again she fixed his hair and chewed her lip slightly._

"_I'm... I'm so sorry, Fred, it's... Ginny's been taken down there... Harry and Ron were talking about it, and...I'm so sorry, I wish I didn't have to be the one to tell you..."_

"_No. I'm glad it was you, at least. George, maybe we should lie down for a bit..." he trailed off and Angelina shook her head at both of them, just as George was going to open her mouth and agree._

"_You should be going to the Hospital Wing, get a calming drought...you'll feel a bit better, even though it probably won't help enough." Angelina rubbed slow circles on Fred's back, as he was now messing his hair up by running his fingers through it, elbows on his knees._

"_She has a point, Fred," George said, mouth suddenly dry. He stood and waited for his brother to join them—Angelina drew one more gentle circle against Fred's back before he stood, and George grabbed his wrist to pull him along. He watched from the corner of his eye, seeing Fred cast one look back at Angelina, and heard the words, "It's going to be okay. I'll be here when you get back," from her distantly._

_Soon he and Fred returned from the Hospital Wing, but George couldn't shake the feeling of pure, stone-cold sickness wavering through him, and he saw that quickly Fred took the spot next to Angelina (as she was sitting on the couch properly now) and almost immediately dropped his head to lay on her shoulder, pressing close to the feminine figure. It was then that George truly began to wonder if Fred liked her the way he himself suspected he felt for the witch. Angelina wrapped her arms around him and mumbled soothingly, then rested her own cheek on top of his twin's head, and he felt the vaguest sense of jealousy trickle through him._

"_Oi lovebirds, make room for me," George reminded them of his presence as he sat, and immediately the girl and his brother pulled away from each other._

::Present day, 10th April, 1996::

He withdrew that memory as well, shaking his head faintly. How many others were there? Plenty, probably. He watched as the clip with her arms going around his brother surfaced, then flickered to swirling mass, much like the other memory. If he thought of them now, he could remove them and feel less troubled through the night—especially knowing Angelina and Fred were more than happily sleeping beside each other as these crude memories came rushing to him.

* * *

::1st September, 1993::

_Angelina and Lee sat across from Fred and George. Angelina lined to George, Lee to Fred, and she was in a nice skirt with the school stockings already in place. But comfortably she raised her legs and rested them on his knees, and he made a mock-irritated face at her. He attempted to wiggle so her legs would fall back again, but she kept them there stubbornly._

"_We can see up your skirt, you know," Fred commented, glancing up from his copy of the Prophet (clearly reading it with much distaste in his stare), and looked her up and down jokingly. George rolled his eyes at Fred, and suddenly he and his twin were pressed together more tightly; Lee had switched sides to be on Fred's other side._

_George felt as if his distaste for Lee's actions were mirrored in Angelina's, and was mildly surprised to feel the weight of her feet lift entirely. In fact, she was standing in front of them, hands on her hips._

"_The funny thing about tights, boys," she began slowly, fingers lightly playing at the ends of her skirt (Lee's interest seemed to perk up, and George had the urge to smack him), "Is that you can't see a thing." And with that, Angelina had brought the skirt up until it was almost to her bustline, then did a particularly interesting twirl this way. It definitely revealed that nothing could be seen beneath her skirt and he glanced to Lee as she fixed her skirt, sat down, and placed her legs on his again._

_Lee appeared frozen, transfixed by the bold action, and even Fred rolled his eyes at the teen. But the train was slowing down gradually, and Fred was the first to notice. Upon commenting on this, the compartment shuddered and there was no longer movement. George watched Angelina lean towards the glass, touching the shield blocking them from the crisp air of Scotland, and watched as frost spiderwebbed around where her fingers were pressed. However, she was quick to stand and walk to the compartment door, open it, lean out...Fred pulled her back in quickly, and there was another shudder as the lights went out on the train._

_It was nearly pitch black in the compartment, and apparently Angelina didn't want to sit alone on one side—she grabbed Lee and pushed him that way, then sat beside Fred in the cramped space. He vaguely wondered why she didn't want to be between the twins, and moments later she was up again to draw the privacy curtains down on the windows looking into the train._

_This time, she did indeed take a place between the twins, but it was Fred she leant nearer to, and whose hand she took for her own consolation was not his. It was his twin's, naturally. Her head was on his shoulder. Cold was seeping into all of them; George could see his breath as he exhaled, and everyone else's, for that matter. But Fred had grabbed Lee's hand, and Lee George's, and George completed their odd circle by clutching Angelina's free hand lightly. But Angelina and Fred were the only ones whose fingers intertwined tightly, his head on hers._

_Soon they began trying to comfort each other, after Angelina announced that there must've been dementors ("Dad works in the courts, I know all about Azkaban's guards...") on the train, and each person took turns in sharing a pleasant memory for the group. Soon the trouble was over, and Angelina was on the side with Lee again, though her legs did not come up to be anywhere near the twins this time. They all took pleasure in eating sweets Mrs. Weasley had packed the twins to bide the time away._

::Present day, 10th April, 1996::

The dark image of Angelina's head on Fred's shoulder as they all held hands flashed briefly in the pensieve, but was gone again soon enough. But perhaps the most haunting visual of all was quick to attack his already unhappy mental state.

* * *

::24th December, 1994::

_Angelina approached the twins, who were standing together in matching robes. Angelina was wearing the most beautiful floor-length green gown, perfectly accenting her dark skin...but George needed to give up, he really did. Angelina was one of his best friends, and she looked pretty tonight. Nothing else._

"_Alright, boys?" she asked, hair tied up in elegant curls that bounced lightly as she looked from one twin to the other. He saw Fred's grin intensify somewhat and he held his hand out to her, which she took quickly._

"_We're fine," they replied in unison. But with her hand in his brother's, Fred stepped forward just slightly. Her own eyes slid over him once, and, apparently content with the sight she saw, responded positively to Fred's request to dance with her._

_He lead her away just slightly, but he could hear their absent conversation. Fred's hand went to her waist, hers to his shoulder, and the hands held together were intertwined and held close to Fred's chest almost tenderly._

"_You look dashing," he heard her say softly, her head tilted up to his as they spoke. Fred's eyes again swept over her, enough that George could see him taking his time in surveying her appearance, and he again grinned softly._

"_And you look...bloody amazing," was his gentle reply, face leaning towards hers to give her a light peck on the forehead. They continued to dance together, Fred twirling her and raising her in the air like all of the men were doing with their dates, and eventually George decided it would be a wise move to the the same with his date._

_But eventually the girl he'd been dancing with, a Hufflepuff named Aria, saw that he was staring at Fred and Angelina most of the time they were together. She shook her head and smiled at him before walking off to find her friends, and George was alone once more to survey the happy night his counterpart was having. The Weird Sisters later played and of course Angelina was excited, he watched her curls bounce more and Fred's hands play at her waist as she danced, her back to him, and he just seemed to be swaying to the beat._

_Later still, there were very few people left. Only three couples dancing. Fred and Angelina were one of the three, with both of her arms wrapped around his neck, and both of his around her waist, and they pressed close together. His chin was resting on top of her head (as she had pressed her forehead against his collarbone) and they were swaying slowly in circles. He was close enough to hear Angelina speaking to him, since she had to speak up for Fred to hear her._

"_I'm so glad we came tonight, we haven't fought once..." George internally rolled his eyes. How she was able to put past the fact that she'd fought with Fred not once, or twice, but three times in one day (exactly a week previously, actually) was beyond him. "I wouldn't dream of it any other way, Fred."_

"_Couldn't picture it otherwise, Angel," he replied, and George could see his arms tighten around her subtly. "Fancy taking a break? It's getting quite late," Fred said softly, and the couple pulled away from each other. But immediately their hands were locked together and they walked to a table very near George, but didn't seem to notice until they were both sitting and George was in front of them._

"_Evening, Angie," he said mock-cordially, "I hope you don't mind, but I'll be borrowing him for a bit." Angelina's gaze fell slightly and Fred shot him a look that purely told him to sod off._

"_Oh, no...not at all, I don't mind," she said, though it was obvious that she did indeed mind quite a bit. The couple stood, and Angelina leaned to kiss Fred's cheek, then offered a smile to George and left._

"_The bloody hell was that about? Best night of the year and you mess up the ending?" Fred asked him incredulously, though his eyes were following the (quite beautifully) retreating form of his girlfriend, and for a moment George wasn't sure what to say._

"_If you're so upset by it, go after her or something," he finally replied, rolling his eyes slightly. Fred gave him a sharp look and was off without a word. So much for twin-evening-time, as he could now see Fred's arm linked with Angelina's, and uncomfortably enough he recognized the pit of jealousy forming in his stomach. He wanted to be in Fred's place, who was now pulling Angelina close to his side and walking to the Grand Staircase with her._

_After all, how would he deny a perfect ending to such a nice night? Angelina would be terribly angry with him for that._

::Present day, 10th April, 1996::

If that hadn't been the true killer to his current thought process, he wasn't sure what would be. He had banished these feelings from himself once they moved into the flat fully—almost purely for the sake of Fred, who sometimes he could hear through the door they had a tendency to leave open, talking to the photograph and revisiting his own memories and thoughts. Three months had gone by, Fred has hardly improved from anger and hurt feelings (even if he knew the only reason he broke up with her was for a reason to leave) and so George, as per usual, was the strong arm.

With a disappointed look at the pensieve and his wand, George pressed the tip to his temple and withdrew the memory of the Yule Ball. Fred kissing Angelina's forehead and seeing her soft, utterly content smile was the image it chose to display, before becoming just the same as the other memories. He shook his head, satisfied that he had gotten the most gut-wrenching thoughts out and could now attempt to sleep.

But laying his head on the pillow, the amazingly spicy-sweet scent of her shampoo assaulted his senses, and he knew it would be a long, long night.

* * *

_Yayy another chapter is up! Poor Georgie boy. This chapter was suggested by a friend of mine when I was searching for inspiration (George felt like he wasn't being used enough, so I asked her and she suggested this. Belated backstories, yay!)._  
_Much love, besos y abrazos~_  
_-PinkBubblegumBliss xx_


	7. Wearing His Pants

You know, I intended this to be the longest chapter yet, but it did not quite reach high enough!  
I hope you like this chapter, things get a little bit twisty with the drama. ;)  
Also, thank you to TealCrystalCAT for adding this story to your favorites! xx

* * *

The next morning was the one day in a week that the shop was closed (though typically for inventory purposes) and was spent in the flat with Fred and George. Angelina, none the wiser to anything that could've happened in George's room, was content to just lie in Fred's bed while he went about his day-off routine, and the deeper she settled into the blankets and more she had of them around her, the less she wanted to leave the flat.

She really had missed her friends quite a lot, and it was nice to be back i the swing of things. Angelina and Fred were...well, somewhere inbetween, but that was okay. She liked somewhere inbetween. Smiles and light holds, protectiveness, and of course the banter she was so accustomed to, but without the worst dread of knowing she would be leaving a boyfriend behind when she returned to school. But that wouldn't stop it from hurting to leave said smiles, light touches, and banter.

Eventually she did get out of his bed, resolving to slip a clean pair of Fred's boxers on (as she was still only in his sweater and shirt), and left his room. Fred and George were talking about something which didn't particularly take her interest, and so she went to the small kitchen area to get juice. Angelina had done absolutely none of her schoolwork over the holiday she was enjoying. Fourth day, only three left...the week felt like it had been going by far too quickly. Stressful and unhappy to relaxed and energized, the week was a full spectrum of things she recognized as her relationship with Fred through just over a year.

But she had N.E.W.T.S. quickly approaching, and she needed to study on the day they weren't open for business. A majority of the break was set for that, the professors had made sure of it (especially Professors Snape and McGonnagall) and she had quite a few essays and spells to learn independently. So after juice and an apple, greeting the twins, and explaining why there would not be much from her that day, Angelina was off into George's room to get schoolbooks. However, she was almost entirely unaware of the stares she had attracted from George because of the clothing she wore.

Then slipping through the door that opened the partitioning wall between the rooms of the twins, Angelina laid the books and layers of parchment along Fred's bed, climbed into the mess of them, and set to work. Soon she had discarded his sweater and remained in his shirt and boxers, quite comfortable now, and leaned over a transfiguration book. Angelina was too wrapped up in practicing the appearance changing spells, pointing her wand anywhere without really paying attention to where, and swished her wand about as the incantation dictated.

* * *

"Oi! Did you just turn my hair purple?" George asked incredulously, seeing himself in the slim landscape-mirror above Fred's bed. "And why is his dresser about fifty different colors?" And, upon actually glancing up, she noticed that the freckled man did indeed have a shock of violet hair from his head, eyebrows included, and that Fred's dresser was indeed changing colors in a dazzling fashion.

"Sorry," she said distractedly, still watching the dresser as it performed something akin to a colorful performance. "I can fix that, hang on," and with one final glance at the dresser, she waved the counter incantation at him. His hair did an odd transition back to ginger, the tips last to return, and with another wave of her wand the dresser feebly returned to its natural color. "My apologies, that was unintentional. Just...studying."

George sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to tip her ink pot, scatter her quills, or make any of her books fall over the side. "It's a day off. You should be coming to Florean Fortesque's with me, not studying like this," he said, rolling his eyes as he gestured to everything. But Angelina shook her head quickly, eyes wide, but instead he stood, grabbed her hands, and pulled her off of the bed. "Proper clothes on. We're going."

"No, George, we aren't! I have so much to study, and such little time," she snapped, arms folded across her chest.

"Then how do you have so much time to work and, oh, I don't know, seemingly endless time to run off and snog Fred?"

"Snogging Fred? You think that's what I've been doing this whole week, is it?"

"Yeah, it is. And you have been. The bath? The sleeping on top of him when I got back yesterday? The product demonstrations at work? Sleeping in his room with him, coming out this morning wearing his _pants_, Angie?" He scowled at her, his own arms folded, and stared back at her expression of pure incredulity.

"What? What the bloody hell are you on about? Fred was drunk when I bathed him, I was, oh..I don't know,_ tired_, maybe, from everything that happened yesterday! I slept in his room with him because, hmmm, he did carry me there after all, and I was tired-again-and wanted to, I dunno, sleep. The last one?" she asked, gesturing at her choice in clothing, "Is because I'd prefer having something covering my legs, considering I didn't need either of you seeing anything you shouldn't."

This only made him more angry though, eyes narrowing to slits as he glowered at her. "Don't take me for a gullible muppet, Angelina. I know you've been bedding him since the second day, you're such a bloody liar," he snapped back. The witch stared at him, unsure of if she had ever seen him this ferociously angry—save for the time that he and Harry decided what a great idea it was to attack Draco Malfoy—and her own eyes narrowed.

"If any of that was true, don't you think Fred would've said something to you? Your own brother, don't you think he'd tell you how happy he was to have me back? Anything like that?"

A stroke of brilliance lanced through George and he leaned forward, quite in her personal space, and spoke with venom dripping in his words. "Actually, Fred did say something. He told me everything that happened after you got back from the Burrow; why you were so exhausted by the time I got back."

"Then he must've told you my day was rather more lengthy than it is at school, since I don't actually work aside from school and Quidditch," she snapped back, though really she was quite curious.

"No, he didn't, actually... in fact, he told me that you're just as good a shag as he remembered," he replied, tone perfectly calm and cool as he now leant away from her, arms now at his sides rather than over his chest. Her own expression went from shocked, to angry, to hurt, and finally to an unreadable expression in only a few short seconds. But she pushed past him as he opened his mouth to speak again, into his room, changed into her own clothes, and was out with her wand in the hallway that lead out to the rest of the flat.

Fred gave her a small smile and stood, arms around her waist before she fully registered what was happening; with a rough shove he was leant against the couch with a confused expression. There was nothing but anger and disgust in her brief stare, and with that she was out of the flat. A loud laugh sounded and he knew she had left the shop entirely. Running to the window he saw her stalking off, pushing past people (which awarded her with several confused and affronted stares) and then she was gone completely.

"George," he started in a warning tone, turning to see the other twin standing in his own doorframe, then his voice lowered dangerously, "What the bloody hell did you do to her?"

"Nothing, nothing. We just had a talk, and she didn't take it well. Must need to cool off a bit. You know how it is when lovebirds fight."

"Yeah, I—wait, _what_?"

"You wouldn't know, but Angelina really is an absolutely brilliant shag," George replied, a brow cocked at the other, and he too was gone from the building within moments. Fred was left standing alone and confused, though quickly piecing everything together...

* * *

Angelina sat in the courtroom chamber beside Percy Weasley, who was scribbling notes on a long sheet of parchment faster than she had ever thought possible. But soon there was a brief recess and the judge left for a glass of water, and Angelina was left beside the former Head Boy. Everyone else had left to stretch their legs, but Percy seemed quite attentive to his notes, and Angelina wanted to ask him a few questions.

"... Percy?"

The other jumped slightly, nearly spilling his inkpot, and looked at the younger witch with a startled expression. "Yes, Angelina?"

"... Has Fred been so horrible his whole life?"

"Angelina, you shouldn't be trying to associate with the rest of my family. They're too close to Harry Potter, it's just a recipe for disaster. Though, for the sake of your question, what did he do?"

"I've...been staying at the shop with him and George. And I really thought our relationship might eventually have been worth saving, because everything was going so well. I wasn't hoping for a miracle or anything, but...it was all innocent, nothing happened at all...and George told me that he..." but she trailed off, clearing her throat loudly. Percy now fully lowered his quill and watched her over the rims of his glasses, silently imploring her to continue. "... George told me that he said we...er, engaged in...well, er, yeah," she said awkwardly, glad that Percy understood the message (she knew because his ears turned slightly pinker) and she took a breath to continue, "But Fred and I have been together before. And then this week. But not in the whole year we dated or anything like that did we get...um, more physical than...well, we just didn't do anything like that."

"And George told you that Fred was boasting about...certain things happening?"

"Well, we went to the Burrow last night, and we went back to the flat and lit a fire and drank cocoa. Nothing else happened, we stayed up talking until I was too tired, then George came home and Fred took me to bed. I'm completely serious when I say Fred and I have done absolutely nothing of the sort."

"Fred is either being a git, or George is. It's your judgement, not mine, but I will tell you that they're both quite suspect for this. But if Fred, by some stroke of dumb luck, cares enough about you, then he hasn't said anything like that. I can attest to that much."

"Thanks, Perce...I appreciate it. Mind if I sit in through the rest of the trial? I don't want to go back to the flat yet, but I don't have enough galleons for anything without going to Gringotts. I'll probably visit my father afterward, but...you understand, yeah?"

"Of course! I'm glad you're taking interest in the Ministry, perhaps you'll consider an internship in the summer? Maybe even a job later on? In fact, if you want to really have a good word put in, you can start by helping Professor Umbridge at the school."

"Oh, yeah, I'll think about all of that..." Angelina trailed off awkwardly and offered a crooked smile to the now eager, lit-up face of the now estranged Weasley son.

* * *

_Git Whose Hair is too Long,_

_It's Fred. I don't really know what's going on, but I think my complicated-ex-relationship-girlfriend is cheating on me...sort of. I don't know how to explain it. Angelina and I were together for a year, from December of sixth year to January of seventh, and then I left with George. We broke up before I left, and it was wretched, and George brought her back to the shop while she's been on holiday._

_Everything started off quite badly, in all honesty. But over the course of a few days, she and I have gotten really close again. Then the strangest thing happens; Angelina shoves me away and leaves, then George comes out of my room and just watches. Asked him what was going on, and the git tells me that 'I know what it feels like when lovebirds fight.' It took me a minute to realize he meant himself and Angelina._

_Bill. She's __my__ Angel, not George's. He told me, 'Not that you'd know, but Angelina really is a brilliant shag.' She's been around me nearly this whole time, what the bloody hell is going on? He gave her his room to stay in over the week, and that's brilliant and everything, but I didn't expect him to go after the bird I've fancied for years. I just thought he was being chivalrous, something Gryffindorish or something. Why couldn't it just be that? Bloody hell._

_What do you think? Has Angelina really been going behind my back to shag George whenever I'm not around? But why was she so angry with me earlier, if that's the case? I don't get it. Write back as soon as you can, this place is unbearably stupid sometimes. Oh, and if you're going to be a prat and rub salt in the wound without promise of dittany, then yes. You're right when you read his statement. Angelina and I have never done anything of the sort, I wouldn't bloody ruin her like that._

_Much obliged,  
__The Better Looking Twin._

* * *

_All of the scene cutoffs look so strange! And sorry for manipulative George, he was necessary. Poor Georgie boy, broodbroodbrood D;  
Much love, besos y abrazos~  
-PinkBubblegumBliss xx _


	8. Impressively Unexpected

Hey everyone! Chapter eight is here, and verging so closely to breaking five's record haha. But not quite! However, I hope you enjoy this chapter, I wanted to wrap 'Thursday' up a bit. xx

* * *

"Oh, everything's wonderful, Father. Fred's treated me quite nicely, as has George, nothing to worry about. Katie and Alicia are fine too. But... I just thought I'd visit you!" Angelina told her father. The judge nearly smiled, the corners of his lips twitching just so, and Angelina felt herself smile genuinely. "I was just sitting in on something with Percy, and er, we talked for a bit, then I wanted to see you before I went back."

"It was good seeing you, Angelina. Go back before it gets too late, you don't want them worrying about you."

"Sure. Thanks, Dad," she added quickly, then hugged the strict parental figure before her, and was off to leave and walk around Diagon Alley for a bit; still not ready to go home. Funny how she called the flat 'home', it just...well, she'd thought it was like another home to her. There was hot food, a best friend that took care of her, and an ex-boyfriend who she seemed to be turning things around with again quite nicely. But now she had a lot to think about based on what she discussed with Percy.

Did Fred really tell George that? Or was it, like Percy also suggested, George's doing? _Neither of them are above it_, the pompous voice in her head repeated, _But if Fred cares about you enough, he won't have said that._ But did Fred care about her enough? The headstrong British witch really wasn't sure at this point.

* * *

_Git Who Misses Having Longer Hair,_

_Compli...Fred, you really need to work on making sense of things. But I suppose that makes sense (though it seems rather ill-fated) enough. George saying that does seem peculiar, are you sure you shouldn't be talking to Angelina about this? Certainly she'd be more than happy to explain. He might've said something that upset her, which could be why she left in a huff. And if that's the case, then you'll need to have a serious talk with Georgie boy._

_Everything you told me about her last year suggests she wouldn't do this sort of thing, especially if you say things were going so well. Angelina seems stubborn; she doesn't seem like she'd go from one of you to the other after being such a frosty 'ice-queen' to the other (Fleur's words, not mine). If she spent a while warming up to you again and seemed fine after that, then she obviously has the preference of you. She wouldn't have made the effort otherwise, and you wouldn't have either if you thought the cause was completely lost._

_Watch them and lie low until you know what's going on. _

_Persistent Vigilance or something like that I think,_

_ The One with the Best Hair_

_P.S. Proud of you for not taking advantage of a girl who you'd been dating for a year. Impressively unexpected. Oh, and the whole '__your__ Angel' bit. Interesting, and again, impressively unexpected._

_

* * *

_

"Fred, I've not seen Angelina all day. It's getting really dark out, do you think we should go look for her?" George asked, voice still eerily calm, though he feigned concern. George hadn't seen much of Fred that day, as Fred had been avoiding him as if there had been a breakthrough where dragon pox could come in a second wave. But Fred looked up at this and nodded, then stood and followed after his twin. The letter was left on the cramped desk in his room, door closed behind him, and they were out of the shop within minutes.

Angelina heard vague calls of her name and looked up, only semi-hopeful for this, and called back quietly, "Fred?" There was no response. The simultaneous calls of 'Angelina' and 'Angie' were either growing more distant or closer to her. There were arms firmly around her and someone's lips against her forehead, then capturing her own lips in theirs.

She would've thought it was Fred, but there were several things wrong with the whole situation. First, Fred hadn't once kissed her, the entire week. The hold itself was enough to drain the air from her lungs rather than a pleasant, warm, protective embrace. Hands were roaming across her back and gripping the fabric of her robes closely. He himself was biting her lower lip, tugging at the skin lightly, and she found herself—quite unwillingly—snogging George Weasley. After she thought she would surely faint from lack of oxygen, he had released her, but the damage was done when there was a clatter of wood against stone.

Fred had dropped his lit wand, staring from his twin, to Angelina, and there was nothing but betrayed hurt and distrust as his gaze fell upon the witch. She held a hand out, reaching for him as she pushed George away with her other, but his counterpart was simply grinning at the horribly unhappy twin. "Told you, she's brilliant every which way."

But this itself made what seemed to her like a caterwauling charm go off in her head. "Excuse me?" she started quietly. "Excuse me?" she asked, now more loudly, "Did you just... and you told me that Fred said—I can't believe you!" His ruse was up and he knew it, ashen face covered with a semi-apologetic grin. Fred was already gone though, wand still lit on the ground, and with one last awful look at George she grabbed the wand and was tearing away to get to the shop.

Up in the flat was a mess. The whole area, completely wrecked everywhere, had an overturned chair, two ripped shreds of parchment on the floor by it, and she wasn't sure what to make of any of it. But she walked over to the desk slowly and set the chair upright again, then picked up the sheets of parchment. Quickly placing the two together like they were intended to be, Angelina scanned over the sheet. A bittersweet smile twitched at the corners of her lips at the post-script. So he really never had said any of it? She needed to write Percy a letter.

* * *

"Fred?" she asked softly, knocking on the door to his room. It creaked open, evidently not locked, and Angelina had to contain a gasp. Books, parchment, blankets, clothes...everything was everywhere. In the middle of the mottled mess of a room was Fred, whose hand was bleeding quite terribly, and a ripped photograph on the floor in front of him. He also had ink on his forehead, and there were tears stinging in his eyes. He was shaking slightly. Whether he was angry, upset, or some fearsome mix of both, Angelina was worried.

"Go home, you bloody bint. You served your purpose here—you made it clear that you just want to wreck everything. Shagging George? Really? What's your bloody problem?" Fred wasn't looking up though, and she saw wetness fall from his cheek and onto the bleeding hand, and he winced slightly. Angelina shook her head and left the room, then returned with a washcloth and small bowl full of warm water—charmed to stay warm until she was finished.

Sitting beside him and gently pulling pieces of glass that were wiggling deeper into his skin, Angelina wrapped his hand in the warm washcloth and held it there for a minute or so. "Fred, I would never do that to you." Finally she made gentle, circular motions on the injured appendage and dipped the cloth in the water again. Fresh blood quickly seeped free of his hand and the water was already turning a copper colour that was quite unappealing.

"Then why the bloody hell did I just see you snoggin'im?" Fred hissed through his teeth as the glass was pulled, but there was an ecstasy in the warmth flooding back to him whenever she used the washcloth itself. Still, though, he felt horrible compared to the happiness he'd felt the previous days. Really, they'd only spent one day actually spending time with each other; not sneaking while the other is sleeping, not doing drunk-damage-control, they'd spent it together and happy. That was only one day ago, why had everything gone to hell again?

"Did you think I wanted to?" Angelina's eyes narrowed somewhat, but now she was gently putting the smallest drops of dittany essence that she needed to, and his hand was healing over quite well. As if she needed to again, she rinsed the cloth again (the water flushed to a scarlet colour) and wrapped it around his hand. "He was there really suddenly, I didn't even have a chance to say anything, and...I don't want to explain what happened from there. It didn't feel good, I just wanted it over."

"Then why's he told me 'not that I'd know, but you're a brilliant shag'?" The hand that was fixing Fred's hair froze when the words were out of his mouth. Her entire body stiffened, actually, and Fred glanced up now.

"George told me that you told him that. He said 'Actually, he told me you're just as good a shag as he remembered'. But it sounded wrong, we've never...well, yeah. But he said it in a way that made me think you boasted about it in the past, being a prat or something..." she said slowly, words only dripping free after she seemed completely certain that they were what she wanted to say.

"Why would I do that? I may not be fun when I'm angry, but I'd never say something like that about you. I wasn't even angry. I wasn't angry until today." Fred huffed to himself until Angelina removed the washcloth, put it back in the bowl, and her arms then trickled around his upper body and gripped the fabric of his shirt. Unconsciously he leaned against her and sighed.

"This isn't how I wanted to spend today at all. Just wanted to study and see you, nothing else really."

Fred sighed again before grunting in agreement, and she pressed her lips against his forehead and held them there. His eyes closed and he leant his head on her shoulder once she'd moved, exhaustion taking over after causing such damage to the living room—not to mention his own bedroom. After a while arms snaked around her waist and held there loosely, and she just held him, still on the floor.

"You should try to get some sleep. I'm going to owl someone about the weekend, and... then I don't know."

"I don't want you staying up if he's being a bloody prat..." Fred grumbled, cheeks puffed out as his arms tightened around her. Really he was just being selfish; he didn't want her out of his sight because part of him wanted to make sure nothing was happening between her and his twin, and Angelina realized that, but kissed his hair lightly all the same.

"I can handle myself. I'll be back in soon, if you want?" she murmured, laughing quietly as she loosened her hold on him. He nodded against her shoulder before sitting up and moving to get dressed for bed. She smiled at him before slipping out of the room, taking care to swish her wand and mutter _'reparo' _at a few pieces of the room. It reassembled and she smiled—good enough for the evening. Soon she was sitting at the very same desk Fred had been writing a letter earlier, pulling parchment, ink, and quill toward herself, and began to write.

* * *

_Percy,_

_ Thanks for your help and advice. You'd be impressed to know it wasn't Fred all! I appreciate that you could set aside a family issue when someone seeked guidance. Especially because that someone was me. Although, maybe George is going a bit over the top? He snogged me. Snogged me._

_ But either way, thanks so much for your help! I'll be in touch about that ministry internship in a while, alright?_

_ Much obliged,_

_ Angelina Johnson_

Figuring Fred wouldn't mind, she borrowed his owl and tied the letter around his ankle after addressing it.

"This goes to their brother, Percy. You shouldn't have trouble finding him, real pompous git," she told the barn owl with a gentle stroke of its feathers. Spreading its wings, the owl flew from the window and was off into the night. Angelina smiled as it left and returned to Fred's room, quickly grabbing some of his clothes (like hell she was going into George's room, she wasn't daft) and going to the bathroom to change. After cleaning up before bed she returned to the (currently) preferred brother's room and crawled into bed next to him.

* * *

He pulled her close to him and she laughed faintly before pressing his nose against his neck, breathing in deeply, and draping her own arm around him. He really could be so funny sometimes, even if he had plenty of legitimate reasons to be upset at the time, but then...she did too.

"You really...never said any of that, did you?" she asked sheepishly, hot breath against his neck. His arms tightened around her and she smiled just a bit.

"Why the bloody hell would I do that? I wouldn't even if I'd never been angrier in my life. Don't be a git," he muttered. Although she felt a slight prickle of annoyance at his last comment, she chose to ignore it and burrowed closer to him in the blankets. "Difficult enough knowing about your thing with Wood in summer of fifth year, anyway."

She thought back and remembered it. Really, the whole thing was full of regrets—fun until it wasn't anymore. So Angelina shook her head and huffed quietly. "Don't talk about that."

"Not worth talking about, then?"

"Not at all. No questions, no answers, nothing." her tone was firm and set. Really, it had been Quidditch...and a thing she didn't need to talk about. Angelina shook her head again as he opened his mouth to speak and he leant his head down just enough to kiss the wide bridge of her nose. "... Fred? What do you think would've happened if he'd asked me out before you did?"

"Something of an ill-fated imbalance in your relationship...one of you would want more affection and the other would get sick of it. Then, either the two of you would break up over a nasty confrontation row, or I'd interrupt to say I fancied you and didn't approve of you two being together. Of course, not until I was interrupting something quite peaceful. Then you'd realize you were dating the wrong Weasley, find me, then we'd get into some kind of fight and not avoid each other for months, at which point you'd set up some sort of ultimatum and I'd have to take it or leave it forever. That sort of thing." Angelina cocked a brow at him and held back a snort.

"Well then, you seem to have really thought this through quite thoroughly," was all she managed to say. Fred chuckled breathlessly, but she noticed how his ears turned light pink.

"I think about a lot of things when I don't have much else to do."

Seeming to decide that this was a satisfactory response, Angelina nodded her head before he started to pull away from her. To her confusion, he simply told her he needed to clean himself up a bit more before going to sleep, so she settled under the blankets and summoned one of her books to study until he came back. His shirt had ridden up a bit on her under the blankets, so when he climbed back into bed (as she was so focused on reading to not notice) it was certainly a shock to feel skin against skin where their sides touched.

Looking up from her book, there was a shirtless Fred Weasley beside her, reading words over her shoulder. "Yes, hello," she said loftily as she returned to her book. He raised into more of a sitting position and pulled her up against him until she was forced to shift to sit between his legs, back against his chest, and still he was reading with his chin on her shoulder.

"Only three more days..." he muttered in her ear, sounding quite disappointed, and tightened his hold on her midsection. She leant her head back on his shoulder and Fred tilted his head enough to rub the tip of his nose against her neck. He felt her shiver slightly and grinned to himself—difficult as it was to restrain himself from really saying how he felt about her (at least while she was awake and aware of everything) and the similar sorts that may or may not have involved a few kisses (Fred pushed the naughty thought away of there also being a few less clothes). But he knew just as well as she did, that nothing like that could happen. At least not now—most likely never.

"Maybe I'll visit over holidays, since I'll be interning at the ministry," she said softly now, turning her head to rest in the crook of his shoulder. He felt her forehead on his neck and his arms tightened around her with a gentle nod.

"I think that sounds brilliant, yeah," he said back. But his mouth had gone dry; it really was setting in that in a few days it would be wash, rinse, repeat and no Angelina to spare. She would be hard at work with Dumbledore's Army, not to mention her studies, and N.E.W.T.S., of course...she wouldn't have any time to write, no time to spare for him either.

She tilted her head up only enough to peek at him and frowned a little, wiggling her back against his chest a bit to slide down a little. "Something wrong? You look kind of spacey."

"Nothing, nothing," Fred replied after seeming to snap from his reverie. The Weasley in question smiled and leaned his head to kiss her temple. "Just tired."

"Then we should be getting to bed." Angelina closed the book and let it fall over the edge of the bed, then shifted out from the tangle she and Fred had created of each other and settled beneath the blankets more completely. Fred did the same and again they were in a close embrace, one last lazy wave of her wand and the candles were extinguished.

* * *

_Okay! I hope you guys that read this liked the new chapter. _  
_Much love, besos y abrazos~_  
_-PinkBubblegumBliss xx _


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